


Changing Seasons

by McBangle



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Autumn, Autumn in New York, Caught in the Rain, Chirping, Fanart, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Kent loves NYC, M/M, Snow, Winter, but it felt in character, so so much, sorry if i went a bit overboard in that regard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:14:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McBangle/pseuds/McBangle
Summary: The prompt was Tater/Kent, "anything autumn or winter-related, really, as long as it's raining or snowing outside and there's a huge amount of fluff," so I decided to give you a little of each!Now with added art!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AntarcticBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/gifts).



> Sorry it's so late, but I hope you like it!

_Fall_

Kent loves autumn in New York. There’s a reason why they wrote a song about it. Swoops likes to claim that Aspen has the best fall foliage – Ha! You haven’t _lived_ until you’ve seen the colors in New York.

He’d flown out to visit his mother and sister for a quick weekend before the preseason. He and his mom had gone apple picking yesterday and then binged on cider donuts and mulled cider on the couch while watching “How to Get Away with Murder” last night. They’d talked about nothing but Yonkers politics, the latest gossip from her Mah Jongg group, and the Kardashians. A perfect day.

He’d taken the Metro North down to the City this morning and spent the day with his baby sister at NYU. The look on Kara’s face when he’d pulled two front row tickets to Hamilton out of his wallet had been priceless. And he had the pictures to prove it. They were already trending on Instagram. She’d practically shoved him out of her dorm room so she could get ready.

Kent takes a deep breath. Crisp air. The faintest whiff of sewage. _Damn_ , he loves New York in the fall.

Except for the sudden downpours.

_Fuck_! He’d forgotten to pack an umbrella, and there was no way he’d be caught dead in one of those plastic ponchos the street vendors sell. He figures his best bet is to find somewhere to wait out the rain and hope it stops before he needs to leave to pick Kara up for the show.

He spots a coffee shop down the block and makes a dash for it. Finger-combing his hair (shit, his hair’s going to dry weird and stick out worse than ever, isn’t it?), he glances about interior of the coffee shop.

Wow. Kara would _love_ this place. It’s full of pretentious douchecanoes talking about nineteenth century Russian literature and beat poets and film theory. She’d eat that shit right up.

Kent sidles up to the counter and orders his usual half-caff nonfat soy latte with one pump of vanilla and two packets of Splenda – not Equal, he can taste the difference, and the barista had better not even _think_ about sugar while he’s training for preseason. The barista rolls her eyes but serves up his coffee precisely to his specifications. God _damn_ , he loves New York. He throws down a five dollar tip and winks at the barista before settling onto the nearest empty chair and pulling up the latest notifications on his phone.

“Parson? Is Kent Parson, no?”

Kent nearly spits out his coffee at the sight of Alexei Mashkov shaking his hair out like a wet dog.

“Mashkov? What’re you doing in New York?” He gestures to the empty chair across from him.

Mashkov peels off his dripping jacket and drapes it across the chair back, and _damn_. Okay. That jacket did not do much to keep his shirt dry. Kent clutches the paper napkins in his hand, half tempted to dab at Mashkov’s wet tee shirt just to touch those pecs.

“I’m fly in from Saint Petersburg today, decide to see the sights before drive back down to Providence.”

“Huh? Oh, right. I’m guessing they didn’t have any umbrellas in Russia?” Kent reluctantly drags his eyes up from Mashkov’s chest to his grinning face as the massive Russian takes his seat.

“I leave in rental car. Was not expecting rain. And what about you, Kent Parson? Shouldn’t you be in desert?”

“Uh, I just flew in for the weekend to visit my family. I’m from New York,” Kent explains sheepishly.

“Who, you? Would never guess. Next you tell me you have famous cat who have own Instagram account.” Mashkov’s brown eyes twinkle merrily. He leans back in his seat, stretching his left arm across the chair back, looking absolutely delicious. Apparently he’d forgotten about the wet jacket, though. He yelps and recoils an instant after his arm touches the jacket, then chuckles and leans forward with one elbow on each widely spread knee.

Wow. This guy was going to be dangerous. Possibly in the best way.

“You’ve seen my cat’s Instagram account?”

Mashkov shrugs. “You tweet about her so much, I _have_ to follow her. How else to keep track of adventures of world-famous cat?”

“You follow me on Twitter?” Kent squeaks. How had he never noticed this? He fights back the urge to check his followers list.

Mashkov’s already huge smile widens even further. “I’m like to follow interesting people. And you are _very_ interesting.”

Kent mentally curses his cheeks as a blush spreads across them. He coughs and glances down at his phone.

It’s lit up with six texts from Kara.

“Aw, shit,” he sighs.

“Is something being wrong?” Mashkov wrinkles his brow in concern.

“It’s my sister. I surprised her with tickets to Hamilton, and she’s anxious to get going, _even though the show doesn’t start for another hour_ ,” he growls, standing up and stuffing his phone in his pocket. “I, uh… Sorry,” he apologizes. “It was nice seeing you.”

“Wait.” Mashkov digs a pen out of his pocket and scrawls on one of the crumpled-up napkins. “My number. You text me sometime.” He smooths the napkin and hands it to Kent, a tinge of pink high on his cheeks.

“Cool.” Kent pulls out his phone and adds Mashkov to his contacts, then shoots him off a text of a winking emoji. “Cool.”

_X_

_Winter_

Kent wanders into Alexei’s kitchen, yawning and scratching his butt. Don’t get him wrong, he loves dating Alexei, but he could maybe do without the early morning wake ups. He’s barely cracked open his eyelids when Alexei picks him up and spins him around as if he weighs nothing.

“Whoa, big guy,” he pats his boyfriend’s bicep. “That’s a little too much enthusiasm before I’ve had my first coffee.” He pops a cinnamon dolce k-cup into the Keurig and starts it brewing.

“Kenny, is snow! It snowed last night!” Alexei is bouncing on his toes in excitement. He reminds Kent of an overgrown puppy. “Is perfect weather for snowball fight. And snow angels.” He gasps. “And snowman!”

“You have fun,” Kent smirks. “I’ll be in here drinking coffee by the fireplace.” He hadn’t flown all the way out to Providence for the weekend to freeze his toes off.

Alexei pouts. “My Kenny too serious. You forget how to play.”

“Why don’t you show me how to play, then?” Kent leers.

Alexei hits him in the face with a throw pillow.

“Later, Kenny, is fresh snow outside! Come, come! You don’t get real snow in Las Vegas, don’t know what it’s like.”

Kent bristles. He may have lived in Vegas for the last seven years, but Alexei damn well knows where he comes from. Not cool. “It snows in Yonkers. I know all about snow.”

“Ha!” Alexei guffaws. “You stay in desert too long, you forget!”

“I’ll show you who’s forgotten snow!” Kent leaps to his feet and grabs his scarf off the coat rack. He loops it twice around his neck and ties it at his throat while stepping into his boots. “I’ve won _awards_ for my snowpeople. My snowpeople will kick your snowpeople’s collective a–”

Before Kent can finish his thought, let alone his sentence, Alexei has swooped him into his arms and bent him into a low dip, peppering his cheeks, nose, forehead, chin and eyelids with kisses. Kent laughs himself breathless.

“Whoa! OK, OK! Uncle! I give!”

Alexei smiles warmly down at Kent as he sets him gently back on his feet. “I’m love you, Paroshka.”

Kent curls his fingers into his boyfriend’s frankly hideous sweater and pushes up on tip toes to pull him closer. “I love you too, you big lug.”

He brushes his lips against Alexei’s and hums against his boyfriend’s mouth. Alexei twines his arms around Kent’s waist and chases Kent’s lips as he breaks the contact. He is flustered and flushed. Kent chuckles.

“Later, Alyosha, is fresh snow outside!” he teases. “Now, get ready for me to beat your ass in this snowball fight.” He shrugs into his parka and squirms out of Alexei’s protesting fingers, laughing as he jogs to the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um... As I was writing this, I had some ideas for some art ~~, but I wanted you to get your gift before the new year, so I'm posting this as just the fic for now. I don't know how the art will turn out, but if I post it, I'll gift that to you as well~~. Art now available in Chapter 2!


	2. Illustrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I couldn't get this image out of my head even as I was writing it, I just had to draw it. Enjoy!
> 
> _Mashkov peels off his dripping jacket and drapes it across the chair back, and damn. Okay. That jacket did not do much to keep his shirt dry. Kent clutches the paper napkins in his hand, half tempted to dab at Mashkov’s wet tee shirt just to touch those pecs._

Kent's reaction:


End file.
